


Perfectly Predatory

by Manda



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Dark, Drabble, Hannibal gets his way, Knives, M/M, You say violence I say fluff, snapshot, unbetad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-05
Updated: 2017-02-05
Packaged: 2018-09-22 06:00:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9586949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Manda/pseuds/Manda
Summary: In this universe, sometimes Will says "no" just to see what Hannibal will do..."Placing the long stemmed glass back on the marble surface top with a soft ‘clink’, Hannibal finally turned the full force of his cultivated persona towards the disheveled man standing before him, and blinked..."





	

**Author's Note:**

> Trying to get back into writing and to embrace the idea of "finished not perfect" so I gave myself 45 mins to write and post something, and this is that something! Not beta-d, not thought through, hopefully still enjoyable inevitable flaws and all. Warning for canon typical violence, f*cked up relationship dynamics, knife play and the like. Not sex.. but depending on how you're wired *basically sex*. Ymmv. Comments welcomed <3

“No” 

The unfamiliar word fell into the space between them. Smashing into the silence and splintering into piercing shards like crockery on Hannibal's expensive slate floor. 

Both men were perfectly still. 

Slowly, Hannibal put down the knife that had moments before been deftly separating lung from thoracic viscera. He thoroughly wiped his hands on the towel that hung from his spotless apron and, unhurried, took a small sip of wine. 

Placing the long stemmed glass back on the marble surface top with a soft ‘clink’ he finally turned the full force of his cultivated persona towards the disheveled man standing before him, and blinked.

“It’s possible I misheard you, Will. I do apologise. You have my undivided attention now, would you be so kind as to repeat yourself?” 

Silence: for long enough that both men wondered if Will was going to continue. 

“No”, Will eventually repeated, only somewhat less steady than the first time.

Hannibal’s eyes momentarily flashed the only anger that betrayed him. His otherwise complete stillness remained intact. 

When he chose to respond some agonising seconds later, it was with the slightest curve of a lopsided almost-smile. He repeated the younger man, even toned.   
“No?” 

Will didn’t move. He halted his exhalation, frozen in breath. Not in regret, not yet, but in a sort of disbelief. Part of him, the part still connected to a common humanity, screamed at him to run away. Every honed pathway for danger detection in his entire body was aroused, millions of years of evolution and survival kicked into play. And yet he stood. Defiant. Stupid. Exhilarated. 

The sharp silence pressed into both waiting men.

Hannibal was formidable. Will noted it anew every time he stared into the face of it. Cultivated, calm, perfectly predatory. Was there precedent for this elsewhere in nature? A predator so beautifully designed that prey go willingly into its jaws? Or was Hannibal such a unique aberration? Will had long since dropped the pretence of feeling discomforted by the pleasures he took in meeting such a creature. He was, for reasons unspeakable, a willing victim and was resigned to remain so, as many times as he survived their encounters. 

Will wondered with a detached thrill if this would be the one he _didn’t_ survive.

 

When he struck, Hannibal moved faster than anyone had a right to be able. 

From stillness to full power near instantaneously, he tackled the other to the ground. Breath slammed from bodies, the sickening thud of bones against tile, force enough to bruise right through, bursting capillaries, just sparing any fractures. Calculated. Grotesquely reassuring to Will how Hannibal knew just how much force his body could withstand. Knew just how far he could be pushed. 

Hannibal lay above him all straining muscles and dead weight, well placed elbows and knees held Will pinned between him and the cold kitchen floor.

“WILL” Hannibal half growled, half hissed his name. A barely human sound to which there was no argument. Only one response was required, only one possible outcome. 

A flash of light dazzled him, then something cold. The knife. His adrenaline, already feeling like it was in overdrive, kicked up a gear somehow. Neither man had a single doubt that Hannibal would kill Will. The question was simply was that going to happen tonight.

Hannibal shifted, hipbones digging agonisingly into Will’s abdomen and angled the blade against the trapped man’s throat.

“I’m yours. Yours.. Hannibal. Yours. I’m yours…” the words continued in endless variations of the same. Fuelled by panic and something less defensible, they spilled from his mouth as readily as Hannibal would have seen blood pour from his throat. And, to Hannibal in these moments, there was really no difference. This raw collapse of emotion, the brutal act of exposing his inner most thoughts to the air, or his internal organs - it made no mind. Hannibal only wanted to know the other man belonged to him, inside and out. There was nothing he would be prevented from accessing. No matter what tools it took to get there. If it was Will, it was his. He needed to know. And though he could not begin to fathom why – Will needed to know it too.

Will tilted his chin forward, just slightly. Hannibal watched the man lean into the blade and there was nothing small about the sickening smile that spread across his face.

“Mine” Hannibal growled pressing his mouth against Will’s lips and letting the knife bite down just a touch, just enough to bring a few small beads of blood to light and a to drag a pained gasp into the kiss.

“Mine”, Hannibal breathed into the vacuum of Will’s inhalation.

“Yours”, Will breathed back.

 

The two men untwined and sat up to catch their breath. 

“You’ll wear the suit?” Hannibal’s usual tone had returned. Incongruent with the darkness still swimming in his eyes.

Will nodded. Not yet trusting his voice. 

“Good. It is important to dress properly for our guests, Will”.

And with that, Hannibal stood. He re-fixed his apron, took a further sip of the otherwise undisturbed glass of wine and resumed dragging the knife through the lungs for that evening’s meal. 

From the floor where he remained momentarily sat, Will noted that he did so without cleaning his blood from the blade.


End file.
